Friday, November 24, 2006

Is Tribune Hyping Its Own Sale?

We've seen a flurry of Tribune stories this week covering rumors that the Cubs or the Tribune Corporation itself may be sold. How shall we interpret this curious behavior? Any Cubs fan will warn you that the Tribune likes to get your hopes up just to dash them later, but we think something else might be afoot.

In three "news" stories on the topic of a possible Cubs sale, the Tribune values the Cubs at $600 million. The figure apparently comes from an otherwise unreported analysis by Goldman Sachs. But Forbes valued the Cubs this year at $450 million. The $150 million difference is not just nickels and dimes. It raises some questions. Why the big difference? And why do Tribune reporters quote the highest valuation instead of quoting the range?

This is what's insidious about newspapers covering their own inappropriate assets: as Tribune shareholders, Tribune reporters are in a position to receive a nice dividend if Tribune sells the Cubs. So naturally, it's in their personal financial interest to inflate the price. The Tribune covers the sale, its coverage influences the terms of the sale, and it is a party to the sale. Notice the point at which reporting, advertising, and marketing begin to merge.

One caution: we do not mean to suggest that the Tribune is in possession of inside information about a pending Cubs sale. Tribune reporters seem just as clueless about what happens inside their Tower as they are about what happens outside their Tower. This week we witnessed a particularly pathetic moment in American journalism: Tribune columnist Phil Rogers covering the New York Times coverage of the Soriano deal. Rogers wrote:
"Murray Chass, a New York Times reporter often honored for his role as a watchdog of the business side of baseball, wrote that the Soriano signing gives credibility to reports that Tribune Co. is going to sell the team it has owned since 1981."
How's that for a journalistic indicator? A Tribune reporter turning to the New York Times to describe what's happening in his own building. It's part of the shame of Chicago journalism that the Times often does a better job on Chicago stories.

But let's get back to those "news" stories about the sale of the Cubs. In one particularly strange one, Tribune reporter Susan Chandler defends corporate ownership of baseball teams. She writes, "Although some teams fared worse than others, franchises with complete or partial corporate ownership won more games than they lost. Their winning percentage: a respectable .507, which means they played better than their opposition over time."

The most loaded clause in those messy sentences: "some teams fared worse than others." As Cubune Watcher Keith Makenas points out, under Tribune ownership, the Cubs have a .481 winning percentage. You had to hear that statistic from Keith the Cubune watcher because Susan the Tribune reporter neglected to include it in her story.

Instead, Susan glosses this whole icky business about winning and turns to Cubs attendance as a measure of Tribune success. Just as patriotism is the last resort of scoundrels, attendance is the last resort of losers. We ask yet again: is it really good for the Tribune to pack Wrigley Field every year, only to frustrate and disappoint those in attendance?

What we're witnessing in the Tribune right now is an annual offseason rite of hyping the Cubs, not only inflating the team's value, but getting the Wrigleyville masses in a lather for Spring. "Happy Days, Indeed" was actually a Tribune headline this week.

Tribune: King of Advertorial

The Tribune has been crowning a lot of kings lately. RedEye declared comedian Jack Black the "King of Rock," as if to say, "We're so hip, we know who Jack Black is." Interest in Jack Black is a feature of the Tribune's dream demographic, its chosen people, the young white professionals who tend to spend their discretionary income in Wrigleyville. Jack Black may not be the King of Rock, but he is a star of advertorial, that blend of advertising, marketing, and news (typified by RedEye) that the Tribune is trying to spead across America like the butter on its bread.

Meanwhile, Tribune sports columnist Mike Downey declared new Cub Alphonso Soriano the "New King of Chicago" before Soriano even had a chance to don his new toothpaste-blue uniform. As if to celebrate the crowning, the Tribune left a grinning image of Soriano on top of its online Sports page for nearly a week. The caption read "Images in the News." Apparently, for an entire week there was no news more significant than Alphonso Soriano's smile. Alphonso Soriano may not be the New King of Chicago, but he does seem to be the New King of the Tribune. Or is he just another star of advertorial, a smiling image where reporting, marketing, and advertising merge to separate Cubs fans from their money?

Another Wrigleyville Assault

Sadly, yet another community alert about yet another Wrigleyville rape appears on the front page of the online Tribune today. (This time the Tribune calls the neighborhood "Lakeview" and again omits the proximity of the event to Wrigley Field -- seven blocks). We applaud the Tribune for alerting women to the presence of a rapist in their neighborhood; we just ask why it never performs the same service for women on the South Side. The Tribune only seems to publish community alerts when a minority suspect commits an assault in a predominantly white neighborhood. It couldn't be, could it, that the Tribune knows sexual assault, like Jack Black, is of particular interest to its dream demographic, its chosen people, those young professionals who tend to spend their discretionary income in Wrigleyville? We hope not. We really hope crime reporting hasn't become advertorial too.

And why does the Tribune only mention the proximity of crimes to ballparks when those crimes occur near U.S. Cellular?